Bullets
by Hobbitpal
Summary: Somethings wrong with Lindsey, and he needs to save her, for his sake... and hers...
1. Chapter 1

The bullet hit her flesh causing it to ripe open in a surge of pain and heat. Her hand automatically went to the wound, trying to cover up the hole that was gapping in her side. She gasped as she fell back against the wall, her hand becoming hot from the blood that was now seeping out of the wound, creeping past her fingers and staining the cloth around her gapping wound a deep red.

The pain was unbelievable, unimaginable; she had never had so much pain in one area. She leaned back against the wall, trying to keep her eyes open, trying to not give into the pain, trying, desperately to not notice the red stains now rolling down her leg and onto the hard wood floor, running away from her, as a mouse runs away from a cat.

Voices started to sound in her head, laughing at her, a man crouching in front of her as she just sat there, her eyes drooping down slightly, almost shut, she just wanted to give in, to stop. Her hand slipped from the wound and more blood spilled out onto the floor.

Her head drooped forward, onto her chest and her fragile body slipped sideways, down into the black abyss that gave her some small relieve from the pain and heat of her body. The sound of laughter still sounding in her ears.

As soon as the shot had gone off, he had panicked, praying that she was alright, that she hadn't been shot. He had to get to her, to hold her in his arms and feel that she was alright.

People had moved into action as soon as the shot had been heard, armed men clad in body armour running forward, their firearms ready, tensed in their arms, waiting for any sign of a problem, waiting for the order to shot and take down the gun man.

His priority was to get her out of there, to see her again, the sod that had fired the shot was really the least of his worries, her dying body, and her fading light was the only thing in his mind over placing those of the shooter, of the man that could have hurt her.

He stayed behind the SWAT team as they smashed the door down, keeping on their heels as they entered the house and went from room to room.

That was when he saw her, lying against the back wall of one of the bedrooms, blood pooling in front of her. Her eyes were closed and he feared she was dead. He ran to her, trying not to slip in the blood, trying to make sure she was alright.

Her eyes didn't open when he touched her, rolled her onto her back so he could look at her wound, at the gapping bullet wound in her side, just above her hip, over her liver. He put his hand over the hole in her side, trying to stop the flow of blood, the hot sticky liquid pushing against his hand, but he pushed back, forcing it to stay inside herm to keep her alive! He couldn't lose her, not now, not right now! She had to stay alive, to be with him, to finish all the things she had started in this life. He wasn't ready for her to die, and he knew that she wasn't ready to die either.

He was pushed aside by the paramedics, forcing him aside, out of the way as they tended to her, covering the wound again, talking to each other quickly and urgently.

He sat back against the wall, feeling tears growing in his eyes as he watched her be taken away from him, he wanted to follow them, follow her, be by her side, but he couldn't bring himself to get up from the floor, from the pit his mind had created as he stared at his blood covered hands. Tears rolled down his checks, the realization of it all hitting him full on in the face with a baseball bat being wielded with great force. It was too much for him, he let the sorrow wash over him, unable to put it off, unable to do anything but submit to it and allow himself to be engulfed.

He sat outside the operation theatre half an hour, still in his blood stained clothes from where he had wiped his hands, from where he had rolled her over, kneeled in her blood, trying to see if she was alright.

No one had told him anything, not said a word to him, nurses passed by him, doctors ignored him as they walked by, looking at some folder or talking to a nurse about a patient, no one seemed willing to help him get information about her, he just had to sit there and wait for someone to come to him.

He was past grief now, his mind had calmed, become rational and his body was starting to sink into a feeling of great tiredness.

Before he knew it, he was asleep, peacefully dreaming that she was in his arms once again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The nurse spotted him when she did her rounds, checking that patients were asleep and such.

She's noticed him the first she'd come around about 2 hours ago, and he was still there, curled up on one of the chairs outside the room of that young female detective that had brought in from the operating theatre a few hours ago.

He was a tall man, thick black hair that seemed to jut sit on top of his head and do nothing else. Handsome features, he looked like a very nice young man.

He shifted slightly in his seat, his body obviously trying to get comfortable, and his jacket was moved back to reveal a detective's shield.

A guard outside the door, this female detective must be very important for her to have a guard outside her room.

Smiling slightly, she went into the woman's room and found her awake, lying in bed, staring at the wall, but not really seeing it there. She didn't even look up when the nurse softly closed the door behind her.

Lindsey stared into space. She didn't understand where he was, why he wasn't there. She needed to tell him that she was sorry for getting shot, that she was sorry for scaring him. She needed to feel him touch her, let her know that she was safe.

She hated hospitals, the smell, the quietness, the doctors stood at the end of the bed making notes on the clipboard chart, then talking down to you like you were a baby. The whole atmosphere was awful, and the food didn't help.

She knew she was just being stubborn, that she had to stay in hospital, she had been shot after all, but she was part of the law enforcement, and they were always stubborn about hospital care, they knew that the longer they spent in a bed, the more chance that criminals got away.

"Detective?" She looked around at the nurse shifting her body so that she could see her properly.

The nurse was a small woman, with a kind smile that looked genuine, not the fake 'I hope you feel better soon' smiles that Lindsey saw in some hospitals.

She didn't smile back; she just turned her head away.

"I'll just be a few minutes." The nurse said softly, moving around to the side of Lindsey's bed, checking her IV drip and notes.

Lindsey didn't respond, she just feel back into staring into space, wondering where he was.

"Is there any thing I can get you?" the nurse asked. She knew that she should really be telling the detective to sleep, to rest, but she could tell that something was bothering the young lady.

Lindsey looked around at the nurse.

"No, thank you." She said quietly, and politely, turning her head away. The nurse nodded, and was about to leave the room when she noticed the young man opposite, still asleep.

"Do you want me to let your guard know that you are awake?"

Lindsey looked around at once. What guard? Unless she meant… She calmed herself down, trying not to get her hopes up, it might just be Mac, he always seemed to wait around if one of his CSIs was hurt. She didn't want to get too excited, just in case it wasn't him.

"What does he look like?" Lindsey asked, trying not to sound to desperate.

The nurse just smiled, seeing that the detective was obviously hoping that it was her boyfriend or fiancé.

"He's tall, thick black hair, longish face, quite handsome."

Lindsey smiled, her heart lifting. _Flack_. He had stayed after all.

The nurse didn't wait for the detective to reply, she quickly left the room and went to wake the young man.

Flack stirred, not knowing why his body ached all over, or why he was asleep up right.

He yawned slightly, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, and that was when he noticed the nurse stood over him, gently shacking his shoulder. He pulled back slightly, trying to remember where he was, and then it all came back to him, the shooting, Lindsey being injured, the waiting.

He sat up straighter, waiting to hear news about Lindsey, that she was all right, that she was going to pull through.

"Sir, Detective Monroe is asking for you." The nurse said, before smiling sweetly at him before walking away, down the corridor to check on her other patients.

Flack got to his feet, pushing back some of his hair.

For a moment, he stood outside her room, watching her as she lay in her blankets, staring at the wall. She looked so delicate defenceless, and yet so beautiful and strong.

He rested his head against the window, just watching her. He'd never really believed in a God before, but right now, he was thanking him for everything he had done, for letting Lindsey live.

She looked around this time when the door opened. She knew who it would be, and she couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face, or the tears from flowing down her checks as he hurried to her side and held her in his arms.

She didn't feel ashamed about crying, they weren't tears of sorrow, but of happiness, of love.

She held onto him, burying her face into his shirt, breathing in his cologne, letting herself be swept away in his aura. She had never felt so happy in all her life, never.

Flack kissed the top of her head, gently rubbing her lower back and rocking her as she cried.

He told her that it was all right, that she was safe, that he was sorry for letting this happen to her.

He blinked back his own tears, one of them crying was enough.

He became aware of her muffling something into his chest, and he loosened his grip on her ever so slightly so that she could look up at him, her eyes red with tears, just threatening to escape from her deep brown eyes.

"I…I…" she could say it, her voice becoming all horse and painful, the tears that had threatened to fall, spill out from their dam. So he just pulled her back into his chest again. He knew what she had wanted to say, so he said it for her, for both of them…

"I love you too."


End file.
